Then his
excited harangue was interrupted by the sound of a gong, which convinced
him that he might again venture to the door.
Danny was in the grasp of the strong arm of the law. A half dozen
policemen had valiantly rushed through the crowd and captured the entire
besieging party, which was Danny.
"What you doin'?" demanded Danny angrily.
"What are _you_ doing?" retorted the police sergeant in charge.
"This here's a strike," asserted Danny. "I got the plant picketed."
"Run him in!" ordered the manager from the doorway.
"What's the row?" asked the sergeant.
"That's the row," said the manager, pointing to Danny.
"That!" exclaimed the sergeant scornfully. "You said it was a riot. You
don't call that kid a riot, do you?"
"Well, it's assault and battery, anyhow," insisted the manager. "He hit
me with a rock."
"Where?" asked the sergeant.
"Where he carries his brains," said Danny, which made the crowd yelp
with joy again.
"Lock him up!" cried the manager angrily. "I'll prefer the charge and
appear against him."
The sergeant looked at Danny and then at the manager.
"Say!" he said at last, "you ain't got the nerve to charge this kid with
assaulting you, have you?"
"I'm going to do it," said the manager.
"Oh, all right," returned the sergeant disgustedly.
Pages:
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90